|Iris Perks (ladyiris) wrote in 20somethings,|
@ 2022-08-06 19:32:00
|Entry tags:||c: iris perks, d: 2028 08, ~ complete, Ω: rp|
RP: Worrying over things you cannae change
Who: Iris, Persephone
What: A family moment
When: 6 August 2028
Where: Perks family home
Completion status: Complete
Training for the St. Mungo’s half marathon was easily the hardest thing that Iris had ever done. Running consistently wasn’t making her any fonder of the exercise. Honestly, once she’d run the marathon in October she would happily never run another metre in her life. At least her dad was along for the ride with her, although he was annoyingly thriving in a way that made Iris scowl every time he suggested doing just a little bit further.
When she’d arrived at her parents’ house this afternoon for a visit before work, Alistair had teased her about increasing their training distance next week. In return, she had told him that she hoped his day was full of disgusting and gross cases at the hospital. That had only earned her an even more annoying hair ruffle when he left for his shift.
At the moment, her parents were fostering three children. It was kind of nice seeing the house so full and watching them tear around the garden with water balloons and toy brooms playing a complicated and enthusiastic game of their own invention. Two of them had been with the family since before Christmas and viewed Iris as a sort of aunty who showed up every now and again and smuggled in sweets for them; the third was twelve and only been in the house for a few weeks after circumstances made it impossible for her to return to her Muggle home for the holidays after her first year at Hogwarts.
Under the shade of the garden umbrella, Iris helped herself to a biscuit while her mother poured the tea. Her eyes flicked up as she heard the lid of the teapot rattle more than it should. “You should have asked me to do that,” she said quietly, a familiar, sad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Do what?” Persephone asked blithely, using her other hand to steady the pot before she set it down. Her hands still trembled even once they were empty.
“You know what.” Iris dunked her biscuit into her tea, pulling it out before it got too soggy. “You can’t fool me. It’s getting worse.”
Persephone, her expression warm, shook her head. “No, it’s been like this for a while.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “You need to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” Iris grumbled, slouched in her chair.
“Worrying over things you cannae change.” Persephone sipped her tea. “The tremors are under control, I’ve not lost any more dexterity and currently there are no other symptoms of the malediction.”
Despite her worries, the corner of Iris’ mouth turned up. Only a former Healer could talk so calmly about a blood malediction, she thought wryly. The curse hadn’t been passed on to Iris, as far as they could all tell, but that had never made Iris feel glad or even relieved. When she was nine, she overheard a conversation between her mother and her aunt, completely by accident. She should have been outside playing with her cousins like the foster kids were now, but she’d wanted a drink. Even now she could remember the exact clothes she’d been wearing when she’d heard that her birth had affected her mum’s health, the moment an indelible memory that liked to surface at her lowest moments.
“Under control doesn’t mean not getting worse,” she pointed out. “Does Auntie Panda know? Or Uncle Hype?”
Persephone made an indelicate sound. “Your uncle has a newborn. I really think he has better things to worry about than me using magic to tie my shoelaces.”
Iris needed another biscuit. “You haven’t worn anything with shoelaces for years.” Not since before she’d stopped practising healing.
“That’s not the point I was making and you know it.”
Looking across the table, Iris couldn’t meet her mum’s gaze, instead looking at her slim, pale hands. She’d first taken up cross stitch as a way to keep her hands moving and Iris had been captivated, learning alongside her. Sometimes Iris could almost forget why they’d taken up the hobby.
“You don’t want them trying to fix things,” Iris said, trying to keep the sullenness out of her voice.
“It is what it is, my little rainbow.” Persephone waggled a biscuit at her daughter. “I plan to be doddery but dignified for as long as I can.”
That didn’t really make Iris feel better, but she also knew that while her feelings were valid she wasn’t the one with a life-shortening curse running through her veins. “At least let me pour the tea sometimes.”